Figuring Out the Stuff Between the Beginning and the End

A Letter to Paul

A few days ago, Paul wrote me a letter. It’s true. You should go check it out. In response, I’ve decided to write Paul a letter. And you get to read it. Assuming you’re still here. You are still here, right? Oh, good.

Dear Paul,

Thanks, ever so much, for the letter you wrote. I’ve been pondering your words. And I’ve been wondering how to properly respond. This has actually given me more trouble than I’m used to. I pride myself on being an excellent pen pal.

I had a good thing going with a couple of pen pals in recent years. Well, I had a good thing going for a few months, at best. What happened to those pen pals, you may ask? They kind of dropped out. I would respond with a letter within a few days each time they wrote. And then, out of nowhere, they just stopped responding. I don’t like to assume things, but it’s possible that my final letters to each of them were so offensive that they burned them and purposefully erased my address from their memories.

If you find this response to your letter to be offensive in any way, please, keep it to yourself. I like to pretend that I’m capable of handling constructive criticism but, in reality, I am only able to dish it out. I cannot take it.

I find that I’m the same way with sarcasm.

You posed some interesting questions in your letter. I would like to answer some of them. I may answer all of them, though I cannot guarantee that you will derive any satisfaction from those answers.

First of all, according to a close friend who became very confused when I brought up the issue of empty water bottles out of the blue, an empty water bottle is still considered a water bottle even if it contains no water. I, however, disagree. Because an empty bottle could, conceivably, be refilled with just about any liquid. What was once a water bottle has the potential to be an orange juice bottle. Or a bacon grease bottle. Or a Fresca bottle. So many possibilities.

I also feel with my hands today. And every day. I also, at times, feel things with my heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course. My physical heart doesn’t actually feel things. And that’s probably a good thing. I mean, I’m no cardiologist, but I think that if my heart was actually feeling anything on a physical level, there might be something wrong with it. And I’m just too young to have to deal with an EKG.

No, I’m not with you. You were correct in pointing out that we are in two separate places.

The four way stop thing is annoying. And it happens all the time. The office where I work is just down the road from one of these ridiculous traffic abominations. It’s also adjacent to an elementary school, which means that, at certain times of the day, pedestrian traffic is abnormally high as well. Not that I’m advocating running over children who are crossing within the safety of the crosswalk. I believe the children are our future. Teach them well. Let them lead the way.

No, it doesn’t sound like you’re joking. Because I can’t hear you. You typed those words. I read those words. And I didn’t read them aloud. Your point about parks being only for children and athletics is a valid one, so I’m going to assume that you were not joking. Also, you wrote it in all caps. I assume you’re either passionate about that belief or very angry about it.

Regarding velociraptors, the name comes from the Latin, meaning “swift seizer.” So I would say you’re not far off in your claim that the word comes from combining velocity with raptor.

I’m honored to have received your letter. I’m honored that you’ve enjoyed my series on Disney Princess Date-ability. And thanks for the plug for my About the Blogger page. I actually forgot what #40 was and had to go back and look. I, too, will leave it unidentified so people can go and see what it is for themselves. When I initially sat down to come up with 100 things about myself, let me tell you, it was a job of work. It’s probably due an update. It’s been nearly two years since I wrote the thing. I’m sure a lot has changed.

I hope I was able to answer each of your questions satisfactorily. I hope I spelled satisfactorily correctly. There’s no red line under it, so I’ve at least fooled the computer machine.

9 thoughts on “A Letter to Paul”

I was going to call you A-A-Ron in my letter but I didn’t feel like explaining myself if you didn’t get it. Thank you for answering my questions. You make a good point about the water bottle. It would be like using a hotdog bun to make a sandwich…it would no longer be a hotdog bun.

As soon as you said that children were our future I was hoping you would complete the song lyrics and you did!

I’ve always struggled with the spelling of satisfactorily too. I just let my computer correct me. Our brains seem to be morphing together, this can’t be good.

I basically go by A-A-Ron at the office now. The office next to mine belongs to an Erin, so we avoid confusion that way.
I have made a sandwich using a hot dog bun before. Necessity is the mother of invention. Or something.
If our brains are morphing together, I believe our only course of action is to find a Mexican counterpart. Then we will have North America conquered.

Reblogged this on The Captain's Speech and commented:
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of some ages, I present to you a letter written to me by A-A-Ron, in response to my letter to him. Go read it. Now. Do it!

Paul & I discussed this on his original letter to you, but it was so crazy interesting, I felt the need to share it again.

As soon as Paul mentioned that you had mentioned that velociraptors (which does have a red underline … the computer isn’t that smart, I guess) might have actually been the size of chubby chickens, I wondered what they taste like.

What do you think – do you think they taste like fish? Chicken? Some sort of fishy chicken? 🙂

If dinosaurs were ever re-animated, Paul posits that it would be served at rich people’s functions as an appetizer. Men & women in rented tuxedos would go around with trays dotted with velociraptor on water crackers. Wealthy people would delicately take a small sample, ooh & ahh over how decadent it is & say how much they enjoyed it, even if it tasted like rancid urine-soaked fish, just to sound pretentious to those who can’t afford it.

(Side note: I would try it. Unless it tasted like rancid urine-soaked fish. Not that I know what that tastes like, mind you. 🙂 )

That’s interesting. I would lean toward the tastes like chicken theory. Because there are so many things that taste like chicken. Maybe turkey. But it seems like the more people find out about dinosaurs, the more like birds they were. I just saw on the news that they found a piece of amber that had some kind of dinosaur tail encased in it. The thing was covered in feathers.

I think Paul’s right about it being a delicacy for the rich, though. I don’t think I’d ever be able to afford velociraptor meat. Unless they were brought back and were as plentiful as chickens. In which case, I could see us all going to KFC and ordering a bucket of raptor. I bet it would be good shredded and made into tacos. Great, now I’m hungry for dinosaur.

Your theory makes a lot of sense! Also, I like that you supported it with science-y stuff. (I like science-y stuff.)

I have a theory that everything tastes like chicken. Except shrimp. Shrimp tastes like pork. Which tastes like chicken. (Add infinite loop.)

I think that velociraptor would eventually be like lobster. Except it wouldn’t be for the poor originally. Still, we’d have chain restaurants serving their unique veloci-recipes. Linguini with raptor sauce. Fried raptor nuggets.